My Brother and I
by TheYummyPencil
Summary: Fred and George! The troublesome twosome! From birth to adolescense they have shared books, clothes, ambitions, friends...But then along comes Angelina Johnson. And she is the one thing they cannot share. Not that they want to anyway...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Weasleys! YAY! J.K should've done a freaking Fred and George spin-off. I can't get enough of them!**

**This is my take on Gred and Feorge, a.k.a Fred and George's relationship, but it's told from the POV of George, around GoF. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!**

My Brother and I Chapter 1 

"Fred, NO!"

Black birds scattered as the wooden door of a classroom burst open. From it two boys tumbled out into the stone corridors of Hogwarts, whooping, jeering and protesting students followed.

You couldn't tell by looking at them, but the lanky red-headed boy on top, aiming vicious fists at the face of the lanky, red-headed boy on the floor, was Fred Weasley. Said boy on the floor was his brother, George and he too tried for punches while simultaneously blocking Fred's fists. This was the first time they had fought in fifteen years and Angelina Johnson was horrified. The girl standing by the pair, yelling her head off and grabbing at Fred's arm was Angelina, the source of their frenzy.

For as long as the twins could remember, they had shared. It seemed natural that they bought the same clothes and had the same sense of humor and held the same ambitions close to their hearts. But this time, with this girl, they could _not_ share, nor did they want to. It was the first time they had fought in fifteen years and for that it was all the more vicious…

George remembered vividly the first time they had seen Angelina Johnson. At the age of eleven, everything was new and wonderful to the Weasley twins. Opportunities were limitless. They knew of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry from the stories their brothers and parents and grandparents had told them, and for nearly a decade they were just about crazy with excitement to get to this wondrous place. It only seemed right, and fair, that they would be accepted, and sure enough they were. Mrs. Weasley had hoped that this great achievement would somehow mellow out her darling demons a little, but of course she was disappointed. Now, they could fly brooms and cast spells without being scolded. They had a vent for all their creative energy, i.e., practical jokes, in this vast place.

One thing that stood out to George about Hogwarts, before they even got there, was the girl that had occupied their compartment on the Hogwarts Express.

They found her sitting and staring out the window. When she looked up at them, George felt an odd warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. She was pretty, very pretty with large dark eyes and a button nose, her full mouth pursed shrewdly. Her braids had red and white beads on the ends.

Now Fred and George were both outgoing, confident, very nearly aggressive in the way they handled strangers. But George was always that _little bit_ more reserved when it came to actually pulling people in. So he was not surprised when Fred quickly extended a hand in greeting and introduced himself.

"Fred Weasley's the name," he said a light chirpy voice. "And this is my dear shadow…"

"George," he filled in and took her soft dark hand in his. If all girls at Hogwarts were like this, George had thought, he would have a right good time.

She had smiled slightly. "I'm Angelina Johnson. Your Arthur Weasley's twins, aren't you?"

They nodded simultaneously.

"Hair gave us away, I suppose," said George.

"Yeah. My dad knows about your dad. He says he's a nutter and I should stay away from you two unless I want trouble." She paused. "So would you like to join me in this carriage?"

They had grinned, certain now that they had found a good friend in Ms. Johnson.

And soon Fred and George made good friends out of Lee Jordan, Oliver Wood and Alicia Spinnet as well. But the most prominent among them had always been Angelina. Maybe it was the fact that she was a year older, but she seemed to hold an almost maternal power over them. She laughed and learned and played with them, she was smart and gorgeous and rough in a good way, but when she felt the need for it she soon became the force of discipline. When a prank went too far or the twins weren't trying hard enough in school she said something, and they listened. Because to Fred and George, she was a goddess, above and beyond any other girls they had ever known. She played Quidditch better than they did, for Godric's sake! George could find no other girl like her in Hogwarts, as hard as he looked.

A distinguishing factor between Fred and George was how they expressed their emotions, Fred much more freely. So it was no surprise when the one twin told the other in the confines of their dormitory, that he was "completely mad" over Ms. Johnson. George, however, did not like to be so open. He encouraged his brother to go for it, applying his best smiley face.

He frequently commented on the fact that Angelina was "right fit". But that was common knowledge. What he could not, _would not_ say, was that he too was mad for her. He too got a smile on his face from thinking about her before he slept at night and when he woke up in the morning. He too felt his heart might cave in and shrivel up like a prune every time he touched her.

But Fred was always that _little bit_ more assertive, more willing to put himself out there. So in their fourth year, Fred asked Angelina to take the trip to Hogsmeade with him exclusively and she accepted. What they did with that alone time he did not know, nor did he want to. A year later Fred put his delicate heart on the line again by asking her to the Yule Ball and it paid off.

George could only watch, watch their crush grow into outright attraction and maybe even love. George watched, and everyday he saw them together his heart ached. He felt a horrible for wanting to take something so dear from his brother. He could never act on his feelings, he told himself constantly. Fred was his best friend, and whatever Angelina made him feel even she was not worth the risk.

But as time went on, it became increasingly difficult for George to listen to the voice of reason. Angelina grew taller, more beautiful, more stubborn, and everyday he saw her, he hated his brother for being the first to shake her hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Fred, George and Angelina sat in a corner of the common room that evening. The fireplace roared. Harry Potter and co. sat by it, talking of the Triwizard Tournament or perhaps the Yule Ball. Probably the Yule Ball. Now was the time when hormones reached a fever pitch at Hogwarts and the seniors watched with patronizing fondness as the idiots stumbled through adolescence.

Fred and Angelina occupied one little sofa while George lounged in a fat red armchair. Angelina lay with her head on the armrest, her legs draped over Fred's lap. They were a lot closer since he asked her to the Ball, George noted. But they had yet to identify themselves as "a thing". George never felt like the third wheel with them. If anyone felt that way it would be Angelina, but she was too secure in herself to be uncomfortable. So all around they were comfortable with each other. They observed the younger trio, Harry, Ron and Hermione, from where they sat.

Angelina sighed. "Poor Harry! How's he going to get through this nonsense?"

"He's managed well enough so far," said Fred. "Cheeky little thing should've been dead by now."

Angelina slapped his shoulder lightly. "Don't say that!"

"Aw, what're you fretting about, Angel?" said Fred, grinning sheepishly.

"He'll be fine. He's Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. Soon to be known as The Boy Who Lived Through The Triwizard Tournament _and_ Hufflepuff's Gloating."

She sighed again, through a smile this time. "He's not indestructible. I just don't want him to get hurt."

"Don't want to lose out on your prize Seeker, eh?" said George.

"Oh, shut it!" But she smiled a little as she did when she felt guilty. George knew her concern was genuine, but he also knew that Angelina was just about ready to punch a hole in the Fat Lady's portrait when she heard there would be no Quidditch that year and that Gryffindor's best seeker in years would be part of a competition people twice his age wouldn't manage. Her love of the sport was remarkable, her compassion for people even more so. _She_ was remarkable. _Too good for a twat like Fred._

When George thought that he had been joking, but a part of him was anxious because we often joke about the things we really believe to be true.

"So what're you wearing to the dance?" Fred inquired. "You better make yourself pretty for me, Angelina."

Angelina snorted. "Right. I'll pull out my tiara just for you, Fred. And my puffy pink ballgown."

"No, no..." he said efficiently. "You've got the wrong idea, my dear. I want easy access tomorrow night."

She sat up. "Easy access?"

Fred nodded, looking fit to burst with laughter. "And don't bother with that underwear thing either."

He dodged the slap she aimed at his head and George laughed with him, though on the inside he groaned. George was taking Katie Bell. She was fit in her own right, and a Quidditch girl. But she was no Angelina.

"Twat!" she grumbled.

"I second that," said George.

Fred shot him an impertinent look and George returned it, making Angelina laugh because they must have looked like mirrors with the wrong timing. The laugh wiped all grumpiness from her face. Her eyes sparkled and her full lips curved upwards and George wished that it was him sitting on the sofa with her legs on his lap.

"So I suppose you two are official now." He deliberately dug up the old bone of contention and Fred sent him a look that was both despairing and annoyed.

His brother looked at Angelina who stared silently, expectantly. What was he so afraid of anyhow? George mused. If he were with Angelina he would make sure she knew where she stood so that there was no danger of somebody else snatching her up. He would tell the whole bloody school.

"Well," said Fred lightly. "If the definition of official is snogging and hand-holding then I'd say we are."

"So you're fine with people thinking of you as a...thing?"

The look Fred gave him was more puzzled now and George felt a little guilty.

Only a little.

"If they've got nothing better to think about."

"So we are..." Angelina spoke up, "a thing. You and me. You are my boyfriend."

Fred grinned and slapped her thigh lightly. "I am bursting for the loo!" He took a hold of her legs and swung her off him.

"Hang on a minute, Fred!"

He stood up and strolled off without another word.

Angelina groaned and sat up. She put her face in her hands. "You know," her voice came muffled and annoyed. "I really hate it when your brother does that."

"What? Goes to the bathroom? It's only natural, Angelina."

"No." He could hear her fighting a smile. "I mean when flips out at the very implication of commitment. Like I'm trying to trap him or something. And I'm not! I swear, George. I just...I like him and I want to know that he likes me."

"You know he does, Ange," said George.

"No, I don't know. He makes me feel so muddled-up sometimes! And I'm not used to feeling muddled-up. Do you think he's waiting for someone else?"

"If he was, I'd know about it," said George earnestly. "And I would tell you. I wouldn't let him string you along, Ange. You're too good for that."

She looked up and smiled. "It's funny. Fred upsets me so easily and you make me feel better just as well. What would I do without you?"

George was horrified to feel himself blush. "Nothing," he said forebodingly, willing the blood away from his cheeks. "You'd be useless without me!" She laughed and flopped back on the couch.

And he would be useless without her, he thought, resting his chin on his fist. Because nowhere in Hogwarts was there another like Angelina Johnson


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: At this point it looks like I'm writing for one. Shout out to Lymania! For that one I shall continue !**

**Chapter 3**

You look like a cupcake." Katie Bell thumped George hard on the arm. "A very pretty cupcake!" he added, rubbing his bicep gingerly.

"Thanks a lot!" Katie's dress was of a chiffon-like material, frilling out at the bottom. The bodice of the dress was deep pink and the tone went lighter and lighter until it ended in a shade so faint it was practically white. But the color looked good against her skin and her blonde hair was curled.

She looked exactly as George said she did. A pretty, strawberry cupcake and he was happy to have her as a date. But Katie had not taken it as a compliment or even a joke. George remembered that girls got very sensitive about these things. Even the Quidditch ones.

"I'm only _teasing_, Kate!" he said and suddenly wrapped his arms around her waist. "My little baked treat!" He pulled her close and pecked her on the cheek.

"Aw! _Sweet_."

George released the blushing Katie, impulsively it seemed, on seeing Angelina descend the staircase of the girls' dorms. If Katie looked like a cupcake, then Angelina had to be a particularly delectable strawberry.

The little baked treat squealed and rushed to her. They giggled over how "ridiculous" they looked, all dressed up, but George did not find it funny. Neither did Fred who watched her from the corner, looking like he did not quite know what to do with himself. Or he did know but felt it would be inappropriate to act at this moment.

Angelina's dress _was_ a ball gown but it was glittery and a deep red instead of pink and puffy. The bodice put emphasis on the things her everyday clothes didn't put emphasis on. It flowed out like a wedding dress at the bottom with red taffeta, black ribbons and other dramatic girly nonsense. She had undone her braids, curled her hair and pinned it up. A gold chain glinted at her chest with what looked like a small ruby on the end. It seemed to point like an arrow to her bosom.

Fred put a hand around her waist once Katie had let her alone and Angelina leaned against him.

"Should I take that as a stare of horrified fascination?" she asked George, smiling slightly.

"Nah!" He cleared his throat and pushed all thoughts of strawberries from his mind, because that gave him all kinds of uncomfortable feelings besides hunger. "_No_. Course not. You just look very…_girlish_."

"Now we see where Ron gets his charm," said Fred wryly.

George walked over to her, reached out and delicately touched the ruby for a moment.

"And how could you afford _this_, dear brother?" He kept his voice clear and avoided her eyes.

"No need to fret about that!" He patted George's shoulder affably. "Just know it probably came out of our money. That is to say, _your_ money."

They walked down the stone staircase, Fred and Angelina in front, George and Katie behind, chatting and giggling. The sound of music ("the Weird Sisters!" Katie exclaimed) and chatter grew until they were face to face with their friends by the Dining Hall. The decorations were so beautiful even Fred and George had to comment.

George eyed Cedric "The Prat" Diggory with Harry Potter's girl and put that down as another reason to dislike him. He nudged Fred when he spotted Ginny and Neville and Ron in his dress robes, emphasis on the dress. They had a nice chuckle together about it, feeling they were the best looking Weasleys present that night in Bill and Charlie's old dress robes. No one did hand-me-downs like Fred and George.

George and Katie sat a table while Angelina dragged Fred along the dance floor. Lee and Alicia were together as well. They indulged in friendly, insignificant chitchat and George's eyes kept darting, almost helplessly to his brother and his brother's date. Fred could not dance to save his life and neither could George, but they seem to be having an excellent time all the same.

"I said we should do this more often!"

George blinked and turned to see Katie staring at him expectantly. "Hm? Oh. Right. Do what?"

"_This_," she said, resting her chin in her palm. "You and me, out, _together_. It's fun."

George hesitated before grinning slowly. "It's easy to say that now, love." All he could do was turn it into a joke. He really liked Katie, but not enough. Not in the right way. "You wait and see how fun I am after a day alone with me. I think Fred's the only person on Earth that can stand me for longer than that."

"_I_ _think_…" Katie reached forward and took the hand that was resting on the table. George sat up straighter as she laced her fingers in with his. "We should test that theory."

_Blimey, she's not wasting any time._ He knew she fancied him but he had managed to avoid the topic for almost year. Perhaps asking her to be his date was not the smartest move to make at this point, no matter how nice she was to be around.

"Ange! I haven't got any _boogie_ left in me now!" Good timing, George thought as Fred stumbled towards them, Angelina in tow. He casually slipped his hand out of Katie's when her attention was drawn away. "I'm all boogied out." And to emphasize his point Fred flopped down on the bench and leaned back against the table, resting his elbows on its surface.

Angelina put her hands on her hips and blew a stray lock of hair out of her face, an action that made George's heart flip.

"Fine! George, let me boogie _you_ out now."

George grinned. "You know I dance like a dying grasshopper, Ange."

Angelina grabbed George's hand and pulled him to his feet. For a moment their faces where but inches apart.

"We'll manage." She looked to Fred and winked. "_You_ save your energy for the end of the night, eh?"

Fred cocked his head and looked at Katie. "She isn't talking about dancing, is she?"

George rolled his eyes and Katie did the same but laughed as well.

Angelina whisked him away and soon he was doing his dying grasshopper jig, pumping his arms sporadically while she pretended to have no rhythm either as she jumped and twirled about. For those three minutes Angelina was George's date. She was _his_.

The music died. The students applauded wildly and five seconds later a slower tune began to play. Some dispersed, some linked hands and drew closer together, grinning and blushing. Angelina looked up at George as she brushed the same stray lock out of her face.

"You boogied out yet?"

George held up a hand. "Ms. Johnson, you underestimate me."

She grinned and put her hand in his. Then another on his shoulder. George hesitated for a very brief moment before placing a hand around her waist and pulling her towards him so that her chest pressed against his.

Angelina was tall but George taller so that she could not look up at him without staring at his mouth. She contented herself with resting her head on his shoulder. She smelled of vanilla, he noted and hoped against all hope that she could not feel how hard and fast his heart was beating.

He looked over her head and saw Fred and Katie still talking, suspicion on the faces of neither. Not that they had anything to be suspicious about. George would not try anything at that moment. Not at this moment.

"So how are you and Katie doing tonight?" Angelina murmured.

He shrugged. "Same ol' same ol'. She still fancies me apparently."

"Course she does! That sort of thing doesn't just go away, you know. Not even if you ignore her."

"I'm not ignoring her! I'm just…intentionally making myself oblivious to her advances."

"What the hell for?" Angelina tilted her head back to look into his eyes. "Katie's great, George. Do you know how many blokes would've loved to take her to the ball?"

"Why didn't she go with one of _them_ then?"

"Because she's mad over _you_! And you're making her sad by pretending you don't care."

George sighed. "You two better watch it. All this dance nonsense is turning you into a right pair of _girls_."

"Don't be a twat! You always mess about when you feel uncomfortable and it's not doing you any good. If you keep on with this attitude the girl you want is going to be snatched up by someone else because you couldn't speak up."

"That's already happened." He could not stop himself. It just came out. And now he could not take it back.

She frowned. "Has it? With who?" she gasped. "Not Madame Maxime!"

George rolled his eyes. "It was a long time ago."

"No, no! Tell me who this mystery girl is. Is she the one holding you back?"

He could not escape it. She wanted to know and she was going to find out. Or at least pursue it relentlessly until he caved. Could this be the night? Should he just come out with it all now?

_I want you, Angelina. I've wanted you since the first day I saw you and nothing's changed. No one else makes me feel this weird! I just wish I had said something before Fred did._

"You know her," he started slowly. "Quite well, I think."

So he could tell her he loved her. And then what? Kiss her passionately in front of the whole school? They might just think it was Fred. But _Fred_ would know it was not Fred, and so would Angelina. How would she react to that? Would she kiss him back? Or slap him? Or run? There were so many bad ways to end the night. Too many. No. He couldn't. Not now. Not ever.

Thankfully, the music ended and George released her.

"Another time, eh? When I'm not on a date._ No, no_!" He raised a hand to brush away the hair now. "Patience, my little kitty cat!"

He took her hand and led her back to the table where Fred, Katie and now Lee and Alicia sat.

The rest of the night was as fun as he had expected, with a lovely little fight between their idiot brother, Ron and Hermione to end the night. Ronald _was_ a twat sometimes, George mused. Couldn't he just tell her alrea-?

He stopped when he realized he was in no position to talk, lusting after his own brother's girl. He was worse off than Ron actually. And good Godric, that was sad!

Fred and George walked up the steps to their dorm together at three o' clock. They were actually the earliest too retire for once, as the Quidditch girls continued to chat and Lee furtively indulged in some mulled mead.

"That was not as painful as it could've been," said Fred.

"Not at all. We picked some good ones, didn't we?"

"What? Radishes?"

"_Dates_, you prat!"

"Right," he said and grinned. Their dorm was empty now so they could talk freely, as if at the Burrow.

"Good Godric, Angel looked fit!" he exclaimed, tugging off his shoes on the adjacent bed. "I thought my eyeballs would melt and roll out of their sockets."

"_Yeah_," he said wryly and hurried to change the subject. "Katie was cute, too. She's always cute. Like a rabbit."

"_Like a rabbit_," Fred scoffed. "Keep talking about her like that and you can forget ever finding out the color of her knickers. Oh _wait_-" he said musingly. "You're not interested in her knickers, are you? _Prat_."

"Don't call me a prat!" said George, dragging off his vest. "I know she's good and everything but I'm just not keen. Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed, taking off his vest. "It is actually _unbelievable_. You know," he pulled back his bed covers and George repeated the action. "I don't understand you sometimes, Georgie. And I'm your twin! You and me, we're tops as far as girls go."

"Not that you're being arrogant or anything."

"_Not at all. _All right, I'm not assuming we don't have competition, Lee's a handsome man. If I wasn't a handsome man myself I might-"

"Off topic, Freddie."

"Right. So it's pretty safe to say we can bag any girl in our year that we want. Especially with the shop, if we wanted to use that to our advantage. Which we don't. Of course. But you have been increasingly indifferent and you're starting to worry me a bit."

"Well, you've got nothing to worry about, brother," said George, rolling into bed. Fred followed suit. "I am fine. Everything is _fine_. I'll make my move on Katie when I feel it's right. You just focus on Angelina. _Your prized possession_."

"Don't call her that," said Fred dismissively through the darkness. "She's not a trophy!"

He closed his eyes. "I'm just saying. The way you boast about her sometimes…"

He heard Fred sit up abruptly in his bed. "Boast? Expressing my joy at having such a brilliant woman in my life is not _boasting_."

He shrugged. "Just saying."

"Well, don't _just say_." Fred was fluffing up and punching in his pillow with more force than was necessary to ensure a comfortable sleep. "I don't like what you're just saying."

"All right, all right! Don't get so riled, sweetheart. I didn't mean anything by it. Goodnight, Fred."

He heard his brother sigh. "Good night, George."

George stared up at the canopy of his bed. He had lied. He _did_ mean something by it. In fact, the more he vocalized his feelings on Fred and Angelina's relationship, the deeper the flaws in it seemed to become. Straying from the norm, he only got to sleep an hour after the sound of Fred's content, steady breathing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: REVIEWS! You're all _faboulous_, dah-lings, FABULOUS! Oh, and thanks, maraudernumba5 for the heads up. I didn't really realize that I was veering towards making Fred the 'evil twin' and George the 'good one' until you mentioned it! Sorry, it wasn't intentional. Just that Fred has the crueler humor of the two. I adore them both anyway! And I'll try to tone it down a bit…**

**This'll be a long one coz I won't be updating for a day or three! **

**Disclaimer: The Ravenclaws are going to pop up. I acknowledge the Roger Davies character (as you all know) as a creation from the wonderful world of J.K Rowling! As is Jeremy Stretton, if my research is accurate. The rest are made up by moi! Thanks for reading. **

**Chapter 4**

George rubbed his eyes groggily. The curtains seemed to have been opened judging by the light fighting to get through his eyelids. Slowly, he forced himself to wake up and gave a sudden start at the sight above him. It seemed someone had stuck a mirror an inch from his face. Or else Fred was leaning over him, making kissy faces.

George blinked slowly and to his horror realized it was the latter when Fred said:

"You're so adorable in your sleep!"

"Get off me!" he yelped and sat up, pushing his chuckling brother away. Lee was laughing, too, while he dressed.

"What time is it?" he said wearily when Fred's chuckles began to subside.

"Nearly twelve," said Fred. "Which means you _nearly_ had eight hours of sleep which is plenty!"

George groaned. "Not for _humans_, Fred!" He flopped back down onto his pillow. Fred proceeded to slap his cheek. "Come on! Don't waste away the weekend _dozing_. Look at Lee! He was completely tossed last night and he's still standing."

"Barely," Lee muttered, dragging on a t-shirt. "I'll see you two downstairs. I want to eat before it all gets cleared up!"

"It won't," said Fred. "We've got connections, remember? The elves will keep breakfast on the table until lunch if we ask them."

Lee wagged a warning figure. "Now, now, don't take advantage. _Remember_, it's nice to be important but it's more important to be nice."

"We _are_ nice to them." George sat up reluctantly. "Don't do a Granger on us!"

Their friend scoffed and made his way downstairs.

After the two had freshened up and changed, they followed, wearing matching red t-shirts because sometimes they liked to confuse people even more than usual.

The Dining Hall was particularly quiet. All the juniors were certain to have eaten earlier on in the morning and most of the seniors were still dozing or out and about the grounds.

Angelina seemed fine with nearly eight hours of sleep, as did Katie and Alicia. They were on one side of the bench, Angelina and Lee on the other and they all chatted vigorously.

She wore no make-up that day and her hair was tied back, the braids restored. She may not have been to the dance at all. And George could _not_ understand for the life of him how one could look so gorgeous in nothing but faded jeans and a baggy black jumper.

Fred took his place on the right side of her with Lee on the left, and George sat next to Alicia so that Katie had to peer around the dark-haired girl to get a good look at him. It was not entirely deliberate because he was not even entirely awake. His feet had simply led him there. And perhaps his subconscious was afraid Katie would try and hold his hand under the table, or even over it, Godric forbid. And that would give Angelina the wrong idea. Not that she was paying any attention. She seemed entirely engrossed in her conversation with Lee and Fred.

Baskets of bread and dishes of bacon and sausage were still hampered on the table.

"Hope _you_ slept well, Dirty Alicia," said George, turning his attention to the girls as their plates appeared. Alicia had earned that title. If Angelina was a good dancer, _she_ would make a fantastic stripper.

Alicia blushed and played with the baked beans on her plate. "Blame, Lee. _Damn mulled Meade_."

"I didn't even have any and _I'm_ not entirely right," Katie added.

"You wouldn't be, would you?" said Lee teasingly. "I think you violated your eight o'clock curfew a bit, dear."

"Bugger off," she murmured as they all laughed. Katie was the baby of the group, even though she was as physically mature as the rest. There was just something about her overall that was sweet and wholesome, and George could not help affording her a wink that had her blushing.

"Who's up for a game of Quidditch?" Angelina inquired after they had eaten.

"You're not tired?" said George incredulously.

"Not with a few bacon strips in me! I think I could tackle a mountain right now. Come on, we'll have a full-on game. Invite some of the Ravenclaws."

"_Definitely_," said Fred, staring at her with something like awe, as if no other woman on Earth could have come up with such a plan. "But no- and I mean _no-_ Hufflepuffs."

"I think we're all in agreement there!" said George, standing up and feeling decidedly better.

They all gathered on the grounds near the Great Lake around one o'clock, brooms in hand. Angelina managed to get her hands on the game balls and warned them all (warned _Fred and George _really) to be careful with how far they hit and threw them.

"And if this Snitch is lost," she chided as if the offense had already been committed, "I'll have your heads on a platter!"

"Yes, sir!" said Alicia.

The Ravenclaws that joined them were Roger Davies, who still looked too pleased with himself for his date with Fleur Delacour, Vikki Scrut (Cho Chang's sub), Jeremy Stretton, Emmy McNamara, Joan Larkley, Trevor Adamms and Troy Piper. The last four had never played Quidditch for their house but claimed to be "decent enough".

"At any rate you'll be better than Lee," said George, dodging his friend's attempts to kick him in the shins.

It was decided that Gryffindor and Ravenclaw should merge and then split into separate teams, purple and green (Katie reckoned those were colours that would not arouse any house spirit which may lead to sabotage within the teams and a decidedly _unpleasant_ match). Fred and George were to be split up as well.

"Two Weasleys on one team is _not_ fair!" Davies had insisted.

"Ah, see how they fear us!" Fred had exclaimed.

All the girls, including Angelina, hung back and talked while the males argued over the rest of the positions. They finally came to a mutual decision after some twenty minutes of debate.

The purple Chasers were Angelina, Alicia and Joan Larkley. The purple Beaters were Fred and Troy Piper while Lee played Seeker ("I've waited all my life for this moment!") and Roger Davies was Keeper.

The green Chasers were Katie, Trevor Adamms and Jeremy Stretton. The green Beaters were George and Emmy McNamara with Vikki Scrut as Seeker. They found they were short of a Keeper and so the next ten minutes were spent talking on the grass while Troy went to find a suitable one.

"And by suitable we mean someone really rubbish," Fred called after him. "Well, you've got Chang's sub!" he protested at the barrage of silent glares.

Just when George was thinking of calling the whole complicated thing off Troy returned with Andy Pilch. They bewitched the tips of their brooms dark purple and glittering green and gathered in a circle to mount them.

Lee thought this was a good moment to put on his commentator's voice.

"Well, with friends and foes allied this should be an interesting game!" It sounded much less dramatic on ground level but they all grinned anyway.

"We likes a challenge, don't we, George?" said Fred, holding onto a struggling Bludger and staring across the circle.

"We do indeed, Fred!" said George, hanging onto his own ball and glancing at Angelina.

"Enough chatter, ladies!" said Roger. "_Let's play_!"

Angelina blew the whistle around her neck and they all kicked off…

"Nice one, guys!" said Davies, waving back as the Ravenclaws parted.

"Good show, good show…" said Trevor, smiling in spite of a bruise on his cheek.

"Thanks," Alicia called from where she sat on the grass. "See you, Troy."

Katie lay down next to her and poked her in the side. "You little flirt!"

"I am _not_ a flirt!" said Alicia, though she grinned.

On the surface, the match went great. The purples and greens were fairly evenly matched and the idea of separate houses was forgotten. It was all round fun, more folly than intense competition. The determining factor of who won had to be the Beaters, who did everything in their power to throw the Chasers and Seeker off course. What they all failed to notice, however, was that George hit more Bludgers at his brother than anyone else.

After Fred intercepted Katie's Quaffle and passed it to Alicia (who made a brilliant score) Angelina blew him a dramatic, girly kiss for encouragement. George, before he had time to think on it, whacked the Bludger at Fred's face.

He barely dodged it. "_Easy_!"

George shrugged. "I'm in it to win it!" And he forced a smile.

But he noted that Fred's geniality was tainted with uncertainty from that point on, even annoyance, and he could not blame him. He tried to tone down the jealousy, he tried very hard, but it always managed to rise up again with added force. If Angelina would stop high-fiving Fred and blowing kisses maybe George would be able to keep a lid on it. But every time she came into sight he got distracted. He almost had a tiff with Emmy McNamara who could not understand for the life of her why he aimed a Bludger at Fred when Angelina was the one holding the Quaffle. George refrained from telling her to stop focusing on him and work on not dropping her bat every five seconds.

In the end the greens lost but George liked to think it was because Vikki had to dodge a Bludger from Troy Piper when she was but a few feet from the Snitch. Lee ended up catching it after two goals from Alicia and that ended the game, eighty-sixty.

Lee, Alicia and Katie made their way back up to the castle with the intention to "chill in the common room" while Fred, Angelina and George remained on the banks on the Great Lake.

"Well done, Angel," Fred murmured as he reclined on the grass, hands up behind his head. "Brilliant way to spend a Saturday."

Angelina sat with her legs crossed, hands pressed down on the grass behind her.

"It was nice," she said quietly, staring across the Lake. "Ravenclaws are lovely this time of year."

"That's 'cause they've got no representative to boast about for the Tournament." George also sat up, hands behind him on the cool grass.

"Well, we're lucky to have one ourselves," she said. "Or unlucky. Depends how you look at it. 'Cause Harry's not even supposed to be in this, is he? Someone just decided to pop him in."

"_Pop him in_ implies it was done easily," said Fred, eyes shut against the warm sun. "But whoever tricked the goblet must have been really powerful, dabbled in some dark magic. He's got his work cut out for him, Harry does. And we'll be with him along the way. Placing bets and all."

Fred issued a slight "oof!" when Angelina thumped him on the stomach.

The Weasley twins had had helped him as best they could in his first year on the Hogwarts Express, and rescued him from the Muggles in his second. They had even handed over their Marauder's Map when he was a third-year. In fact, they treated Harry better than they did Ron sometimes, because they knew who he was and what he meant to the wizarding world. But now, with this Tournament, a feeling of helplessness settled upon Fred and George.

Still, George enjoyed thinking of Harry. It meant that he wasn't thinking about his own worries. His worries that they would never manage to get the shop going, despite their "agreement" with Ludo Bagman, they would never be anything more than the troublesome twins at Hogwarts and he would really never have Angelina.

George exhaled silently. "We should take this back." He thumped the heavy wooden box of Quaffles, Bludgers and Snitch.

"Yeah." Angelina came out of her own reverie and stood, dusting grass off her bottom briskly. She nudged Fred in the side with her foot. He grunted.

"I think I'll do a bit more lounging if you two don't mind. All that winning takes its toll on a man." And he yawned exaggeratedly.

George and Angelina rolled their eyes but George smiled inside. He would get more time alone with her now.

They lugged the chest together and halfway up to the school George began to pant a bit.

Angelina looked at him incredulously. "You're not _tired_, are you?"

"Me? Tired? Never!" But the slight flush in his cheeks said otherwise.

Angelina laughed. "Pa_thetic_! I'm going to have to work you very hard in practices."

"As long as we win, you can work me as hard as you want." George resisted the urge to blush as he thought over this sentence. "That sounded different in my head," he muttered pensively, causing her to snort.

As they stood by the door of the storeroom, he noted the look of relish on her face when she brought out the keys. Wood had left all responsibility to her, and sometimes George thought she might burst into tears whenever they reminded her she would only get a crack at being Captain next year.

The storeroom was small, musty and dim, filled with old broomsticks and spare Quaffles. They shuffled in and put the box down in the heart of the room.

"I can hardly believe it," she said wistfully, locking the door behind them. "This time next year, I'll be Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch squad."

"Yeah," said George leaning against the wall. "_You'll_ be the one making everyone's life miserable. I can just picture it…_faster, damn it, faster! What the hell is wrong with you? My _Gran_ could handle a Quaffle better! I don't _care_ if it's minus ten degrees out! No one leaves until that Snitch is caught!_"

She frowned anxiously. "I don't want to be a dictator, though."

He rubbed her shoulder encouragingly. "You will be. We're all going to hate you. But then we'll win and it'll be worth it."

She sighed. "That's the most important thing, I suppose. _Winning_."

"And having fun."

"_Yeah_. That comes second after winning." She shifted her weight onto one foot after their hilarity had subsided and stared at the floor. He knew what was coming next because she always looked down when making herself emotionally vulnerable. "_George_," she said. "Promise you'll stick with me, even when I'm being a bitch."

George suppressed a groan. Why did she have to be like this? She was seducing him without even trying, without even knowing it. "I promise," he said with all the heart he could muster in those two words. He put a hand under her chin and steered her face upwards. "Now stop with the owl eyes. You look like you haven't been fed."

She gave an affronted exclamation and thumped him on the shoulder. He hit her back, not as hard but enough to make her retort with a sharp, defiant poke. He poked back and then he was poking with both fingers and then tickling her and she was running away. He grabbed her around the waist, swung her round and pulled her back, wriggling his fingers across her tummy, causing her to jerk and shriek helplessly.

And suddenly the frenzy took over him like a burst of rain. George was certain now as she squirmed round to face him that he was going to do it. He would feel the plump lip against his and it would be the way he always thought it would. Nothing would halt him this time. Nothing except-

"I haven't been away _ten minutes_!" Fred was strolling towards them. George felt a flush of anger and shame rise in his cheeks but he did not release her. His mouth was still pressed into her hair. "And look what you two are up to." Was that the uncertainty again? The annoyance? Suspicion? He hoped not. He hoped so. He did not know. George loosened his grip.

"Let's have lunch," Angelina declared. She freed herself, clearing her throat, and pushed him away. "The winning is taking its toll on me, too."

She looped her arm into Fred's and he nodded in accordance, glancing at his brother.

They walked together to the Dining Hall in tranquility but in the back of his mind George was aware that some small, yet irrevocable damage had been done.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Dear readers, wherever you may be…I'm trying to incorporate more of HP & tGoF into this chapter. I haven't read GoF in a while but I'll try and make it as accurate as possible.**

**Disclaimer: I do not claim to own ANY part of the Harry Potter series, including characters and minor storylines. My fellow fans will recognize certain things as the creation of the lovely and loaded J.K Rowling!**

**Chapter 5**

"That _bitch_!" Angelina tossed a Witch Weekly to Fred and sat in the desk adjacent to his. "I picked this up from Hermione today." She looked ready to burst into tears, or attack someone.

Fred frowned at the headline and began to read in a low mutter. "_Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts… controversial staff appointments…Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the _part-human _Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures_?"

He continued to read for a few moments, George and Lee looking over his shoulder. It was yesterday's paper and the heading boasted,

**DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE!**

with a picture of Hagrid looking all anxious and confused. George felt his heart swell with anger and pity.

Finally, his brother gave a disgusted groan and exclaimed, "What the bloody hell does it matter if he's a _half-giant_? He's Hagrid!"

George took the paper with Lee, a little puzzled. Neither Fred and George, nor Ron and Ginny had ever really wondered why Hagrid was how he was, or asked their parents. He was like a tree, big and strong and just _there_. A natural part of their lives. Now he was being hacked down by this Skeeter woman and her stupid quill.

"I always suspected," Lee muttered.

"But it doesn't _matter_," said George, giving him the Prophet, barely able to touch it now. He had known Hagrid even before Harry had. "He's not ferocious-looking! He's just a grubby old teddy bear." He sat down in the desk behind Angelina. "Where is she getting this from?"

"_Slytherins_, of course," said Lee, sitting at the desk next to his. "Malfoy's going on about being attacked by a Flubberworm."

"_But they don't have teeth_!" the others exclaimed in unison.

"We should go see him," said Fred.  
"We should. Herms told me she and Harry and Ron are going to try and talk to him today. Make sure he's not thinking of leaving or anything."

Lee sighed. "_What_ is the Wizarding World coming too?"

The next minute, Mad-Eye Moody walked in for their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, and all his students faded into a reverent hush.

As the gruff, one-legged man set up for his lesson, Lee raised a cautious hand which Mad-Eye instantly spotted through the back of his head.

"Mr. Jordan."

There was the usual moment of awed silence before he inquired, "What do _you_ think of this Prophet business, sir?"

"Me?" He turned round slightly. "I never read it. Man can only see his name in print for so long until he gets sick of it. _The woes of celebrity_…" They laughed a little. He turned around fully now, wand in hand, magical eye whizzing, and they all sat up a little straighter. "You just worry about your half-giant. Don't hold it against him. Things aren't always as they appear, you know…"

As upset as George was for Hagrid, he could not help but acknowledge how pleased he was for the distraction. Tension still lingered between him and Fred from Boxing Day. It must have been their twin telepathy, or maybe just paranoia, but Fred was slowly picking up that something wasn't right. He had that pensive look about him which indicated he felt an important fact was alluding him. He would not be content until he found it out.

For almost a week Hagrid did not show up in the castle and all their efforts to lure him out of his cabin were fruitless.

"Cheer up, you lot!" said Lee one day in the common room. "Dumbledore will sort it all out! He always does. And we've got Hogsmeade coming up mid-January. _Katie_, _Angelina_, you get to raid the sweet shop, and Alicia can stare all day at jewelry she can't afford. And you two! You get to check out your competition at Zonko's!"

Indeed, this cheered them all somewhat. Most of all there was the thrilling and ominous prospect of the Second Task. The Tournament was only half-way through…

Fred and George sat with a pack of their fellow whooping and cheering Gryffindors in the stands that had been set up on the banks of the Great Lake.

Despite the anxious feeling in his stomach (Harry wasn't even there yet), George knew this was going to be brilliant.

"Wish someone could've tricked the Goblet into taking _us_," he heard Fred say wistfully.

"You wouldn't make it far," Lee yelled over the swelling din. Harry had just appeared across the Lake and was joining the others. "The other champions would think you were a couple of sea creatures and hex you half-way through!"

Fred and George simultaneously attacked him.

"WELL!" An immediate hush fell as Ludo Bagman's voice echoed across the lake. The twins glanced wryly at each other. He had yet to hand over their galleons. _Bloody cheap bastard._ "OUR CHAMPIONS ARE READY FOR THE SECOND TASK WHICH WILL START ON MY WHISTLE! THEY WILL HAVE PRECISELY AN HOUR TO RECOVER WHAT HAS BEEN TAKEN FROM THEM. ON THE COUNT OF THREE, THEN. ONE, TWO…_THREE_!"

The stands immediately erupted with hundreds of cheers for Harry, Cedric, Krum and Fleur, but no cheers could be louder than the ones Harry received when he got back to the Common Room, later that night…

A few days after Harry's display of "moral fibre" in the Lake, they all strolled through Hogsmeade on a sharp, brisk afternoon, Galleons in hand. George could not help chuckling at the rubbish that had been printed this time in the Witch Weekly Lee got from Vikki Scrut.

"_In the meantime_," Fred quoted 'Harry Potter's Secret Heartache' melodramatically, "_Harry's well-wishers must hope, _next time_, he bestows his heart upon a…_worthier_ candidate!"_

Fred, George and Lee burst out laughing. Alicia snatched the paper and handed it to Katie who crumpled it up and chucked it into the nearest dustbin.

"It's _not_ funny!" said Angelina. "People are going to be after Hermione's head now."

"Well, are we supposed to take it _seriously_?" Lee protested. "Come on! No one's going to believe Harry and Hermione were a thing."

"No one that _knows_ him," said Katie. "But there're are loads out there who don't actually understand anything of the poor kid except what they read in _Witch Weekly_."

"All right, all right," said George. "We've let Skeeter spoil our mood once. We don't want it to happen today."

They all concurred and began to split up. Lee followed Fred and George to Zonko's, Katie and Angelina rushed to Honeydukes sweetshop and Alicia went to meet Troy Piper in Madam Puddifoot's. They agreed to meet up in an hour by the Shrieking Shack, which was to be their "cool, dangerous hangout" from now on, according to Lee.

"Zonko" of Zonko's Joke Shop was not actually present behind the counter that busy day. When Fred and George got their shop running they would be in it every single day, come rain or shine, snow storm or heat wave. And _their_ trinkets would be _far_ more inventive than this twaddle.

After their Zonko's audit, the pair traveled to Dervish and Banges and, quickly bored of that, sought refuge from the bitter cold in the Three Broomsticks. It was a rather resentful stint as they were limited to pumpkin juice and Butterbeer. A few more years. Just a few and it would be nothing but Firewhisky for the rest of their days. They'd be bloody alcoholics.

"Cheers, Rosmerta," said Fred after she had refilled their glasses. She winked in that harmlessly pretty way of hers and sauntered off. George watched Fred watching her and gave a sudden, disgusted snort.

Fred turned, as if only just noticing him there. "Fizzing Whizbee in your bonnet?" he inquired.

George rolled his eyes. "Don't mind me. I'm sure not even my pretty face can rival Rosmerta's backside."

"What're you on about?"

He shook his head. "You have a girlfriend," he muttered, taking a sip of Butterbeer.

Fred sighed his you're-being-a-right-kill joy sigh. "Well, don't get all broody! I'm just mucking about. What? You think I'm going to up and elope with _Rosmerta_? Open a chain of Three Broomsticks in Bulgaria or something?"

"You'd have a harder time laughing it off with Ange." He was struggling to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

Fred frowned. He looked caught between guilt and peevishness.

"What _exactly_ is your problem, George? Everything I do concerning Angel seems to rub you the wrong way."

"Well, _one of us_ has got to care about her feelings."

"What do you mean, _one of us_?" he laughed incredulously. "I care plenty about her feelings!"

"You do a pretty rubbish job of showing it." Fred glared. "Look, all I'm _saying_," George attempted to recover himself, "is you should take these things a bit more seriously, Fred. Sometimes…you don't know when you hurt people."

Fred looked on the verge of saying something, but he clamped his mouth shut deliberately and swallowed it. There was a moment of silence, the first awkward one between them in a long time, before he spoke again.

"If you're worried about me hurting Ange," his tone was too low and calm to be comfortable, "there's no need. I won't. Ever. And I'm not particularly appreciative of this self-righteous stance of yours."

George suppressed a sigh and shook his head. The conversation was over but nothing had been said, nothing resolved.

George could not remember a time when he was eager to get away from Fred. Ever. But life is made of firsts.

He stood, after downing his drink.

"I'm going to the Shrieking Shack. Not much to do around here. You coming?"

Fred contemplated before shaking his head. "I said we'd meet Lee and the girls at Honeydukes."

"Oh. All right. Well, I'll see you later then."

"See you."

George felt Fred's eyes on him all the way out of the bar. The pensive look had returned and George was scared. He was slipping, slipping and soon he would fall, out of control, into darkness.

George shifted even closer to a speedy descent when he arrived at the Shrieking Shack. She was there, as if conjured by his thoughts.

"You're early," she said from the fence. Beyond it the Shack stood in all its haunted depletion.

"So are you." He leaned against a fence post and watched her, staring up the hill. "I thought you'd be with Lee and Katie."

She shook her head. "My sweet tooth is temporarily out of service. Far more interested in house hunting."

A sharp wind blew and he could almost see it cutting through her cloak. "Cold?"

She shook her head, still looking forward. "That was a shiver of fear. Spooky thing this Shack is."

He nodded, remembering the time he and Fred had attempted to get inside, unsuccessfully.

"What were you and Fred up to?"

He shrugged. "Scoffing at the mediocrity of Zonko's, browsing D and Bs, drinks at the Three Broomsticks. It's a good thing we'll be setting up a new shop here. Hogsmeade is getting a little lackluster."

Angelina smiled. "Well, I'm sure Rosmerta kept you entertained. She has a soft spot for the pair of you."  
"_Especially Fred_." It was a quiet remark, but not so quiet as to be inaudible.

Her smile faded slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing really," he attempted nonchalance. "Just that Fred's a bit more charmed by her than I am. You know how he gets."

"Yeah." She narrowed her eyes. "_I know_."

Another gust of wind sliced through the silence. Angelina issued a quiet noise of protest, as if pleading with the weather to not be so ruthless.

"You _are_ cold."

"Just my hands," she said wryly. "These gloves mum knitted are useless. Don't tell her I said so."

George took both her hands, pressed them together and rubbed them fervently between his own.

"Well, don't start a fire or anything!"

"Shut up. I'm trying to be valiant."

She snorted. "Saving me from frostbite. Indeed nothing could be more valiant."

Angelina stared up at him pensively as he ran his hands over hers. There was an electricity in the air that came from more than just the static of woolen gloves. She was very close to him now, and yet completely inaccessible.

George thought of all different types of love in that moment. Love for family, love for friends, love for lovers. Which was the strongest? Or most important? Most dangerous? Or did it all depend on the people, the place, the moment?

This moment. Everything disappeared, nothing was more important than her. Did Fred ever feel like this? How could he? He was Fred. Too busy putting on a show to focus on anything real. This was real.

Suddenly George realised love for lovers was the most dangerous. It was the most selfish, therefore it did the most damage.

He was relieved for the sound of approaching footsteps. Nothing was said, but nothing needed to be. She knew. He knew she knew, just from looking into his eyes. Or she was on the verge of finding out. Perhaps she had always suspected. Angelina was no idiot. And neither was Fred, despite his harmless grin.

"Good grief! You _have_ to stop meeting like this." It was Fred. Was he stalking them or something? In all fairness she was _his_ girlfriend. Although he had never actually said that.

This was what George had worried about from the beginning. Fred was making the same mistakes. Not saying anything. If he had not said it, surely it was fair game?

Fred waited until they had all returned from Hogsmeade, until they all went to bed, until the lights were out and Lee was sound asleep, before he spoke to George.

"I got to Honeydukes," he recounted in the dark. "Lee told me Angel had gone up to the Shrieking Shack by herself."

"Yeah?"

"And you went up the Shrieking Shack by yourself."

"Yeah."

A lengthy pause. "So did you arrange to meet her up there? Without us? Without me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm just asking."

"What would I do that for? It was a coincidence is all."

Silence. "Right. Okay. Goodnight."

George was uncertain. "Fred?"

"_Goodnight_."

And so nothing more was said.

**Author's Note: _Oh dear._ The cracks are starting to show. I'm trying not to veer off into the angst but George is leading me there! It feels kind of necessary as we move towards the end of the story (happy or unhappy ending?). Yes, people! The end IS in sight. I'm estimating three/four chapters until I've completed my first HP fic! YAY! **

**Hope y'all are still enjoying. If not feel free to say and give suggestions on how I can improve. My only wish is to entertain. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: I'm back! Sorry, it's taken a while for me to update! Been so damn busy these days. I hate education. I have to think about all the impoverished children in Africa who don't have the opportunities I do just to get out of bed in the morning. Morbid thought, yes…**

**Anywho! We are reaching our climax, ladies and gents. It might not even take four chapters to finish now. Maybe three. We'll see! Please review, constructive criticism welcome and all that faff.**

**Disclaimer: Let's keep it simple, eh? I don't own Harry Potter. But if I _did_…no. We're keeping it _simple_!**

**Chapter 6**

Four major events occurred, the month after their Hogsmeade visit. Hagrid thankfully returned to teaching, Hermione started receiving hate-mail thanks to Skeeter's recent scoop, a giant maze was being grown right on the Quidditch field and their darling idiot of a brother, Ron nearly caught them out "blackmailing" Ludo Bagman. But all that did nothing ultimately to distract Fred, who was becoming far more overt in his suspicions. It seemed George could not have five minutes alone with Angelina without his brother popping up like a ghost, in the common room, outside classrooms, even en route to the bloody bathroom. They were normally together, of course, but his presence was starting to feel more oppressive than companionable now. But that was just George. _He_ was the one with the guilty conscience.

_No one can know, no one can know, no one can know_…but the more he thought it, the more convinced he was that _everyone_ knew. It seemed the whole of Hogwarts, even the staff, was looking at George with disgust. But he did his best to pretend everything was fine. They both did. No one outside their relationship could know there was a problem, because then it would become real. They kept themselves busy pushing Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, out of Hermione's line of vision, of course. They dreaded to think of how she would get when made a Prefect, which was as much of a certainty as the sun would rise.

The day George finally slipped and fell with Angelina, he found her waiting outside the classroom after his lesson. He parted with one of his in-class friends, Nigel Phelps and began to walk with her.

"Greetings, stalker," he said jovially. "What can I do for you this morning?"

She shrugged. "Just wanted to see you. I've been getting this weird feeling lately that you're avoiding me."

George stared straight ahead, sure that if he looked at her he would turn into a pillar of salt or something. "You're not as perceptive as you think you are."

"Oh, I _think_ I am. _Come on_," she nudged him with her shoulder. "What have I done to upset you?"

"_Nothing_," he said earnestly. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"I haven't? You sure? Because you're acting the way mum does when I forget her birthday."

"I'm not avoiding you." Such lies.

"None of my other friends are this mean to me," she teased.

George stopped in his tracks. She did the same and stared up at him.

"Let's go somewhere."

There was something discomfited about her expression. It was all him, he knew. He was suddenly unable to control the intensity of his own gaze. "What? _Now_? I have a lesson."

He scoffed. "After all that nagging about me not spending time with you."

She shrugged. "Fine. Tomorrow then. We'll _bond_. Just like me and mum."

"I'll have to be honest with you, Angel. I don't appreciate this mum comparison."

It was not the words he spoke but the way he was looking at her. And the fact that he had just called her Angel. He never called her that. _No one_ did. Except-

"Tick tock, Angelina!" Fred's tone was meant to be wry and cheerful, but his voice sounded hollow as he strolled towards them, hands tucked into the pockets of his school trousers. "You'll be late for your lesson if you don't hurry up."

Angelina rolled her eyes. "_Yes, sir_." He winked at her, evoking a grin from her wide mouth.

George had taken a step back. He watched Angelina until she was out of sight, Fred did the same.

"This is our free period." Those were the first words he had spoken to him all morning. George nodded. "I want to talk to you." He nodded.

They walked together in silence until Fred found a suitable spot in the large open-air corridor. Fred leaned against the wall and stared at him. George stood uncertainly. Suddenly, Fred stepped away from the wall and began to pace.

"_You_." He stopped in front of him and pointed a wry, accusatory finger. "Something's the matter with you." He began to pace again. "I can see it. I can feel it." Stop. "It's bugging _the hell_ out of me." Go.

George shrugged. "House elves cooking isn't what it used to be."

Fred narrowed his eyes. "Bollocks! I _know_ you, Georgie. I know when you're trying to run away from your own head. Something's _wrong _with you and Angelina, isn't it?"

Silence.

"_Yeah_. That's what it is. You-" Fred stopped suddenly. He was staring at him now, silently, intently, and George felt terror and defiance well up in him as the realisation finally dawned. "_Good Godric_," Fred whispered, with the air of someone who had suddenly been slapped. "You _love_ her?"

"More than I can say for you." And that was it. The damage had been done. There was no turning back.

Fred's eyes widened. "Don't. You. _Dare_."

"Dare what?" George found himself taking a step back despite his defiant tone. "Be honest? Do you love her? Or are you just with her because you _think_ you should be?"

"What're you on about?" he said weakly, and yet fury was etched in his face.

George felt the weight fly off him, and once he had started he could not stop. The words slipped out of him like pearls off a string. "This is so _you_, Fred! We share, but you're always the one that decides what we should have in the first place. What clothes, what friends, _girls_! Because you think that'll go into making us successful. And Angelina is, _of course_, among the cream of the Gryffindor crop, future _Captain of the Quidditch team_. That makes you look so great, doesn't it? But you don't even know what you _really_ want, Fred."

"I want _her_!" He stepped up to him, looking borderline homicidal. "_Don't_ try and turn my head!" Before George could say anything else he was pacing again. "Have you said anything to her?"

"No."

"Has she said anything to you?"

"No."

"_Good_. Let's keep it that way, shall we? _Stay away_ from her."

"_Don't_ tell me what to do. I'm not your puppy."

Fred threw his hands up in the air. "Oh, of course, I would never confuse _you_ with a puppy, George! Dogs have an inclination towards loyalty, you see."

"I _have_ been loyal! You don't know-"

"No, I _don't_ know! I don't know who you are right now and I don't want to. So just bugger off, will you?" His voice cracked. "_Get out of my sight_."

George avoided his whole group of friends from that point on. He avoided their curious stares and questions. He had no choice but to. It could be taken as self-absorbed but Fred and George knew they were the foundation of the whole group, the leaders, the ones who could always be counted on to make things right with a joke or a biscuit that would turn one into a large yellow bird. If they found out anything…he dreaded to think what it would do to their friendship.

George decided to "hang about a bit" in the common room and there he fell asleep. It seemed just five minutes later when he awoke, but it must have been late because the fire had died to glowing red embers, and the room was nearly dark. He started at the sight of Angelina kneeling by the sofa in her blue night gown and dress. What dream was this?

She slapped his cheek and hissed: "_Wake up_." No dream at all.

He sat up groggily. "_What_? What do you want?"

"Is something wrong with you and Fred?" she muttered.

He immediately turned away from her, onto his side and feigned a loud snore. She yanked him back to face her with more strength than her lean form suggested.

"Tell me," she whispered.

"Go away, Ange. _Please_."

She stood and plopped down on the sofa by his feet defiantly. "You're not just upsetting Fred, you know. You're messing up the whole group! We're not supposed to fight. We are the beacons of Gryffindor _coolness_, The Untouchables."

George sat up. "If we're gonna have a group name, Ange, it sure as hell isn't going to be _The Untouchables._"

She laughed a little. "Just trying to get a feel for it but all right." She sighed and tucked a braid behind her ear. "Anything it is, George. You can tell me. You can tell any of us! Just _talk_." He made to get up, she grabbed his arm. "George, come on. What is it?" He swung his legs off the sofa, pushing her away and stood.

"_What_ is your problem?" She was angry now. It was all too much.

There was no thought involved in his next actions. And when George remembered that night he would think of it as a dream. His arm around her waist, a hand on her cheek, kissing her with all the zest he could manage without smothering her, her hands on his chest, to draw him closer or push him away, he was not sure. And as with all dreams it ended just as it was getting good.

"_That_ is my problem," he panted against her forehead.

As George escaped through the Portrait Hole he knew he had become a fugitive.

**Author's Note: THE END! Thanks for reading everybody! Bye…**

**Lol! Just _kidding_. But the end is in sight, few more chapters to go. Reviews, reviews! Get me pumped up for the last stretch!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: We're gonna have a FIGHT! This obviously doesn't appear anywhere in J.K's book, so suddenly the story's kind of AU. Bear with me as I carry out my vision. Wow, that sounded pretentious!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter no mine. You know, on Dumbledore, I've actually kind of come round to the idea! After the initial shock, of course. But oh well. _Long Live Gay Dumblydore!_**

**Chapter 7**

"_Stop it, _George."

"Stop what?"  
"You know _what_."  
"No, I don't know what."

"Stop _staring_ at me."

"I'm not."

"You're doing it now!"

"Maybe because you're standing right in front of me!"

"_Mr. Weasley, Ms. Johnson_…is there a problem?"

"No, Professor McGonagall," they chimed.

Angelina glared at George and departed with the book she was pretending to borrow, but he could not tell if she was truly angry or not. Fred always asked to go to the bathroom when he was falling asleep in a lesson, to avoid detention. Today had been the case and Angelina used the opportunity to chide George, who was sitting alone in a corner of the classroom. He _had_ been staring, part of it as defiance to Fred and part of it because he simply couldn't help it. He kept torturing himself by replaying the kiss in his mind. It had been maddeningly insufficient. Mere physical contact was not enough, skin against skin and breathing the same breath. He felt he wanted to take in her entire being until there was nothing left of her that wasn't his. And George reckoned he had to be in love because what else bring about such creepy, demented thoughts?

Fred came back a few minutes later, looking decidedly less sleepy. If looks could kill George would be a very dead wizard just then from the stare his brother was fixing him with. He sat down purposefully next to Angelina. George rolled his eyes, but a part of him ached. It just didn't feel _right_ to fight him, to hate him. He had never felt so incomplete and alone. But there was no going back, only forward, into some unknown darkness.

George's only distraction lay in the Third Task, a day away. It was when looking at the maze that George realised how glad he really was their Anti-Ageing potion hadn't worked. George felt another pang of nostalgia. But that was soon to disappear.

McGonagall was called out of class by a rather anxious-looking Hagrid halfway through the lesson. As she left, Fred turned round in his chair to glare at George, who had been staring once more at Angelina. Their eyes locked. George raised his eyebrows expectantly. Abruptly, Fred stood. Angelina grabbed his arm, whispering something. He shook her off.

George did not but glance away as Fred weaved round to the back of the class, causing everyone else to turn to and look. They were not used to the twins being so far apart.

"What did you do?" he demanded in a tone so low only George could hear.

"In the last ten seconds?" he shrugged. "_Breathed_ mostly."

Fred narrowed his eyes. "_Don't_ try and be clever with me, George. You can't pull it off."

He gave an incredulous smirk and shook his head. "Bugger off."

"Not until you tell me _what_ you did."

"What do you _think_ I did?"

"I think you made a move on her."

"She told you that?"

"No. Just a thought."

George said nothing and picked up his pen. Passive aggression had always worked better. With one swift movement Fred shoved the book in which he was making notes off the desk. Well, maybe not _always_. George sat like that for a moment, pen still in hand, before bending slowly to pick up his book, then stationery. He stood, drawing himself up to his full height and met Fred's glare full-on. There was that feeling he was accustomed to of looking into a mirror. After some twenty seconds (he counted) George spoke.

"Maybe you should tell _her_ to stay away from _me_." It was cold and hollow. He did not _want_ to say it. But it came out all the same.

George had barely reached the door when Fred yanked him back by the shoulder. Angelina was on her feet.

"What does that mean?" he hissed. "_What did you do_?"

George shrugged, another thrill of defiance running through him. "I might have kissed her. She might have kissed me back. Who kno-" George had barely finished speaking before Fred's fist was flying at his face. He felt a dull, blinding pain in his cheek, heard Angelina shriek, "Fred, NO!" and before he could react he was being bulldozed through the door. And then he was on his back on the concrete, winded, and Fred was trying to knock his teeth out and he was having a hard time fighting back while protecting himself. What sounded and looked like a thousand students suddenly poured out of the class, whooping, jeering and protesting.

Neither Fred nor George saw Professor McGonagall charging towards them, forcing her way through the circling Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. Neither heard her chiding them shrilly, ordering them to "desist". But they _did_ hear her yell "_Stupefy_!" and they did see the flash of red light. And then nothing else as they fell together into darkness…

George awoke to find Madam Pomfrey peering over him. She tut-tutted. He exhaled groggily and shook his head. He turned on impulse to look for Fred. He was lying back with his hands up behind his head, twiddling his feet as if to some song only he could hear.

"Professor McGonagall will be in to have a few words with you two," she said. George nodded. It was really no fun being Stunned.

As they had been warned, McGonagall swept into the room minutes later, looking grim yet curious.

"What _on Earth_ led you to such behaviour?" were the first words out of her mouth.

"We were just testing out our new product, Professor," Fred piped up. "_Instant Antagonism_! Pits even the best of friends against each other."

She looked neither convinced nor amused. "As you are both in my house…" she proceeded, "as all your siblings have been in my house…I must ask if there is an…_issue_ between the two of you? That led you to fight?"

"Course not, Professor," said Fred. "Everything's just _peachy_."

She turned wearily to George. "_Is there_ a problem, George?"

No problem he wanted to discuss with her. Or any one else for that matter.

"Everything's fine."

She seemed to catch their drift. "If you insist. I will, of course, be removing fifty points from Gryffindor for your display."

George frowned. "What? Fifty points _collectively_?"

"Fifty points _each_." And with that trademark stern look she departed.

"Cheers, Moggy!" Fred saw fit to call after her. She pursed her lips shrewdly, shook her head and exited.

As soon as she was gone, Fred swung off the bed and left, as if there was no one else in the wing. As much George would have liked to be left alone from that point on, he could not possibly be. Ron caught up to him in the corridors.

"Words going round you and Fred fought! What the bloody hell for?"

"He stole my Liquorice wand."

"Oh, come off it, George."

"No, _you_ come off it, _Ronald_. Yeah, we fought. It happens. _Don't_ go running off to tell your friends."

"Why not?"

"Because some things are best kept _in the family_, aren't they? Besides, Harry doesn't need the destraction, does he? They'll find out if they do, and if they don't, _smashing_. Now bugger off. You must have a test to fail or something."

Ron shook his head and left with a bitter, injured look.

Ginny was not as easily dissuaded. She found him in the library where he had been sure no one, not even Angel, would have thought to look.

"Does it have anything to do with Angelina?" As smart as he knew his little sister was, she always managed to surprise him.

He waited a bit too long to answer. "No."

She shook her head. "Don't waste oxygen lying to me."

"I won't waste oxygen talking to you either."

She was obviously ticked off, and a little hurt by the comment. She gave him something of the same look Ron did. But she would forgive him in the end. She always did. _Fred_ was not so much of a certainty.

The last confrontation was the worst. George was hoping to grab some pillows and a blanket from the Common Room and camp out with Hagrid or something. It was late when he got there. He did not expect to see Fred, Angelina, Katie, Lee and Alicia gathered, waiting for him. George felt a pang at the sight of Katie, sitting with her knees pulled up into her chest on a squidgy red armchair, blonde curls tumbling into her eyes. She looked anxious and uncertain. He had not thought of her all this time. If they could carry on without her knowing, without her getting hurt George wouldn't feel so terrible. But by the look on Fred's face it was not to be so.

Lee and Angelina leaned against the fireplace, the source of all this mess staring at her feet. Fred and Alicia shared a couch.

"Brilliant!" said Lee, trying desperately to sound cheery and efficient. "You're here! Now will one of you just bloody tell us what's going on?"

"I just came for a pillow."

"Well, you're not getting a pillow!" said Alicia. "Come on now, you two. This isn't _normal_. We're all allowed to fight. _You're_ not. Talk to us."

"_Talk_ to them, George," Fred muttered.

"Shut it." Fred stood.

"_Say that again_."

Lee stepped forward hastily. "Stop! You're weirding me out, man! Acting like a bunch of _girls_. No offense, you three."

"George." Katie ignored this and spoke softly. "_Please_. What's the matter?"

"He kissed Angelina, _that's_ the matter!"

Hers was the first expression George looked for and he wished he hadn't. He knew Katie was about to cry as she always looked at her hands to conceal it. He turned away. Alicia was shaking her head. Lee looked like he was trying to catch flies with his mouth, it was so wide open. Angelina looked at Katie, hands covering her mouth.

"Well, tell them all about it, George!"

"Shall I mention that she kissed me back as well?"

Angelina spoke for the first time. "I did _not_!" But it sounded weak.

"You didn't stop me either." Katie stood and moved towards the girl's dorm. "_Kate_, don't go…" She did not turn back. George's shoulders slumped. "I didn't mean to upset everyo-"

"_Don't_." said Fred. "_Don't_ talk. Just go."

He thought of saying sorry, but then he knew it would have been a lie. He loved her and he wanted her and for that he could not apologise. But he was sorry for the hurt it caused. George said nothing more, looked at no one else and made for the Portrait Hole.

He heard Angelina's weak plea as he climbed out.

"_Let's not talk about this with anybody else, okay_?"

He had been hoping she would say that.

**Author's Note: Keep it in the family, tha's wha I always say! Don't want the whole of Hogwarts yappin' abou' it! Hope you enjoyed. Sorry for the late update. **_**School**_**. You know the story. About two chapters to go! **

**GBU (God Bless U!) **


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Here we build up to the last chapter, and the Third and final Task. Please read, review and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't claim that Harry Potter is mine because I am smart and too young to be sued. **

**Chapter 8**

As George sat on the banks of the Great Lake he thought of only two types of love. The love for a brother and the love for a friend. He had both before. But now he had neither. Could he have one without the other? Did he even have a choice? Probably not. Because no one had talked to him since yesterday. He understood why they felt betrayed. He had done a complete Cane and Abel. Except rather than killing Fred it was his _trust_ he dashed with a figurative rock.

There was no question as to which love he valued more, and if George had a choice (or a TimeTurner) he would go back in an instant, go back to silently loving Angelina and constantly having his brother at his side. He had been given a twin. They were completely different and exactly the same, and sometimes it seemed they did not just share possessions but hearts. George had never spoken of these musings to Fred. He would probably just respond with, "Blimey, put a dress on why don't you!" But he understood just as well as George did. He was sure his brother was feeling the separation as severely as he.

George was resolved just then to march back up to the castle, apologise to them all, get on his knees and beg Fred's forgiveness. But then _she_ popped up, and all his strength was gone.

"I was going to do something really honourable and self-sacrificing before you came along," he muttered as she flopped down next to him and stared across the Lake.

"I'm sure you were." But he was relieved. There was great comfort in her presence.

He glanced at her. "Well, I can only hope you don't hate me, seeing as you're here."

"Hate you?" she laughed a little. "I couldn't if I tried."

A drawn-out pause. "_I'm sorry_, Ange."

She bumped her shoulder against his gently, encouragingly. "_Don't be. _You can't help it if you like me! It's my fault. I'm all over you sometimes and it's inconsiderate. I think maybe I don't know when I hurt people." She sighed. "Anyway, I know you didn't mean to upset Fred."

He shook his head and forced himself to look at her properly. "You angry with me?"

She shook her head vehemently. "I'm not angry with you. And I _don't_ hate you."

George hesitated. "You don't love me either."

Her eyes widened. "Of course, I love you!"

"Yeah. But you're not…_in_ love."

There was a moment of silence in which George stared at her. He hated himself for looking hopeful, borderline desperate, but oh well. Angelina shook her head without further hesitation. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have kissed you back. I just…I wondered for a moment if maybe…maybe _I_ felt something, too. But then I thought of Fred and…"

George gave something of a disgusted grunt at the look on her face. "Well, what's _he_ got? What is it that's so much better in him?"

She was a little alarmed at his tone. "Nothing! It's not about who's better. It's just…what I feel. When he looks at me. It's _different_. Not better. That's why I can't choose."

"You can't have us both."

"Yes, I can."

He smiled weakly at her defiance. "It'll all be…_different_ now, won't it? With us."

She nodded. "But it's all right. It'll be all right."

He had no choice but to believe her.

So they made their way together up to the castle. George must have been something of a clairvoyant because Fred appeared in his mind before he actually turned up in real life. The echoes of their footsteps ceased immediately as they all looked at each other. Angelina stepped forward a little.

"Fred-"

He spoke over her, coldly and stiffly: "In how many languages do I have to tell you to _stay away from her _before you understand?"

George shrugged. "I'm quite partial to French."

Fred stepped forward. She got between them. "I'm sick of this, Angel," he spat. "You've got to choose. Are you with me or not?"   
Angelina snorted bitterly. "That's really rich coming from _you_! Mr. My-Bladder-Gets-Weak-Every-Time-I-Hear-The-Word-Commitment!"

Fred's eyes widened. "What are you having a go at _me_ for?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Well, I just reckoned now that all our cards are on the table we should try sorting out some of _your_ issues, too."

"_Issues_?"

"You tell him, girl," George muttered.

"Shut _up_."

"Stop!" Angelina's entire being seemed to tremble with anger. "Just stop! This is so _wrong_. You're Fred and George. You _love_ each other. You always have! I _won't_ be the one to mess you up. I _won't_ choose."

Fred glared at her. "Well, my love, where does that _leave_ everything then?"

"I don't _know_." She poked his chest viciously. "You'll just have to sort it out, won't you? _See you at the Third Task_." And in a bizarre moment of overwhelming, emotional girliness Angelina flipped her braids and stormed away, leaving the two facing each other.

They glared their hearts out, hands tucked into their trouser pockets and when both felt the silent stand-off was through for now, they promptly parted ways. But George could see, as clear as day, the look of anguish in his brother's eyes.

For the first time the possibility struck George that he and Fred might never make up. And it scared him to figurative death.

**Author's Note: That was pretty easy to churn out (although a bit short)! Probably coz my mind isn't cluttered anymore. History exam is OVER! Yay! It actually wasn't that bad. I encourage all high school students to study. It kind of helps…**

**GBU**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Sorry that Chapter 8 was short! I was saving my creative energy for the last stretch! Anyway, I'm making it up to y'all in this one. _Final chapter_. It's gonna be a big 'un! Like EPIC! Or at least it _felt_ epic when I was writing it! The story seems to have come and gone so damn quickly. But it's best to finish it now. Never know. I might just get hit by a bus tomorrow! **

**Disclaimer: I do not claim to own a single motochem of Harry Potter. I don't know if 'motochem' is a word. But Steve Carrell said it so what the heck! **

**Chapter 9**

**HARRY POTTER 'DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS'…**

"_The boy who defeated He Who Must Not Be Named is unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeet-"_

Angelina tossed the Daily Prophet into the fireplace upon reading the name, even though it was not lit.

"The woman does not _quit_!"

"Forget her," said George from where he sat on the sofa. "She'll get hers in the end."

She made a quiet noise of consent, crossed her legs and flopped back on the adjacent settee. "So I hear some of the Weasley clan's visiting Hogwarts!"

"Yeah. Just Mum and Bill I think. Come to see Harry in the Third Task and all."

She was quiet for a while, staring at the Portrait Hole. "I'm assuming you're not going to tell your Mum about any of this."

He snorted. "I'd have to be an idiot to do that. She'd get all upset and then try to fix it. Like you."

She looked at him. "Well, it _needs_ to be fixed, George. How long are you going to give each other the silent treatment for?" He shrugged. She hesitated. "I think you need to apologi-"

"_No_." And she knew better than to pursue it further.

Fred, George and Ginny made their way down to the Dining Hall. Ginny walked between them, barely reaching their shoulders in height. The twins did a very good job of pretending not to notice each other.

"She's _just_ a girl," the only sister Weasley broke the silence. "A great girl, yes but-"

"Ginny, have you _shrunk_ an inch or two lately?"

She glared. "Fred-"

"How's it going with you and Harry, Gin?"

She frowned. "It's _not_ going, George. I don't think it ever wi-" she seemed to snap out of a trance, "but that's beside the point! You two need to get it together before-"

"Did you cut your hair?" Fred tugged at her red locks.

Before she could probe any further they had arrived at the Dining Hall. Professor Moggy had told them that all Champions' families would meet in a side chamber for lunch. They spotted Cedric "The Prat" Diggory with his mum and dad, the lovely Fleur Delacour with her mother and sister (practically identical except for varying heights), Krum with his rather moody-looking parents and then their own Mrs. Weasley, who flung herself at them as they approached. George thought, as he and Fred disengaged from her and gave Harry affable slaps on the back, that it was a good thing the spectacled one had the Weasleys to take care of him. Harry would no doubt have gone insane with nobody but those Muggles for a family, putting bars on his windows and whatnot.

The twins sat strategically on either side of Ginny at the table. Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Harry, Ron and Hermione (who had just arrived) sat across from them. Ron kept darting inquisitive looks at them which they each answered with a discreet, warning glare. Ginny wouldn't stop poking them randomly in the sides as some sort of chastisement. But Mrs. Weasley remained perfectly oblivious, absorbed in fussing over Harry. Bill was too absorbed in staring across the room at Fleur Delacour to notice the tension either.

After a "pleasant" meal, Harry left to give Bill and their mother a tour. They wished him good luck for the evening to come. Ron and Hermione went off to practice spells and revel in their sexual tension or whatever the hell they did when they were alone. That left Fred, George and Ginny. The two boys exchanged what had become the mandatory glare and walked off without another word, ignoring Ginny's protests.

George was sick of being shunned by Lee and the rest. They were _his_ friends, too. So when he found them all in the Common Room he did not turn around and leave. Fred and Angelina sat together, as did Katie and Alicia. Lee was warming his backside by the now lit fire. Whatever conversation they had been having ended the moment he appeared.

"Come off it!" was the first thing Fred said. "You must have a nice hole to crawl into somewhere else."

Lee gave a disgusted grunt, but it was not aimed at George. "I've had it up to here with you two!" His very dreadlocks seemed to tremble with distress. "You're depressing! Come on, Ali."

"_Please_ would be nice," Alicia said wryly but she rose anyway. "Kate?" Katie stood, but she had not taken her eyes off George. They all anticipated she was going to say something and Katie did not disappoint.  
"You could've _told_ me you weren't interested." In all his years of knowing her he had never heard Katie sounding bitter. "Instead of stringing me along."

Suddenly it seemed they were the only two people in the room. "I wasn't trying to string you along," he said earnestly. "I _do_ like you, Kate."

Her pretty features hardened. "But not in that way, yeah?"

His shoulders slumped. "I'm _sorry_. I don't know what else you want me to say."

She shook her head. "_Nothing_, George. Nothing else." And in silence the three departed.

Fred stood once they were all gone. For the first time in years George thought he might cry. He was just so tired now. "You _had_ to upset them, didn't you?" And Fred would give him no rest.

"_Me_?" he exclaimed. "_You're_ the one who had to have a go at me the minute I walked in the door."

"I have every right to." Angelina gave a loud groan and sunk further into the chair. Fred seemed to just remember she was there. He turned his scrutiny on her. "And this is the man you want to be _friends_ with."

"I'll be _friends_ with anybody I like," she snapped.

"Anybody but him! You understand?" He loomed over her. "You _can't_ be friends with him, Angelina. I…I forbid it."

Fred seemed to know it was the wrong thing to say before he had even finished saying it. Angelina rose slowly, drawing herself up to her full height so that she could sufficiently glared into his eyes.

"You…_forbid it_?" She stepped forward and he stepped back. George grinned. "_You forbid it_? Listen carefully, _Frederick_." She poked him in the chest. "I didn't pay attention to _my father_ when he told me stay away from you, and I'm certainly not going to avoid George just because _you've_ forbidden me. You don't own me!"

"I never said I did!" Fred seemed to shrink under her glare.

"You don't have to _say it_." And suddenly, unexpectedly, her voice cracked. "It's what you think. I know it is!" And for the first time in what seemed like forever, George watched Angelina tear up. "You're such a kid, Fred, and I'm sick of it! You think I'm just a toy for you to play with…and tease. A possession, yeah? And it's always cute. But sometimes I think you don't…"

Now he moved forward. "What? Love you? _Godric_, what's he been filling your head with, Angel?"

"Nothing! Believe it or not I _am_ capable of forming an independent thought."

"I didn't mean-" he halted roughly and seemed to be dredging up every once of willpower he could find to control his voice. "I _don't_ want to fight with you. You already _know_ how I feel about you."

She shook her head. "That's not enough, is it? Why can't you just _say it_? At least tell people I'm together!"

"I don't _know_! I don't know why. But if there's one thing that's completely clear in my head it's that I love you._ I love you_, Angelina Johnson. I love you and it makes me hurt. It makes me scared. I may be a prat sometimes-"

"_Most of the time_," she interjected.

"All right, _most of the time_. And I may not know exactly what I want. But if there's one thing I'm sure of it's what I feel."

The room went silent, except for the crackling flames. George had gone through several emotional stages in this brief period of time. He started with hatred, jealousy, and a malicious sort of glee, but in the end all he felt was terrible, oppressive guilt. And soon after that, he just felt sad. They loved each other. They were_ in love _with each other.

George could see they were seconds away from a snogging session. He cleared his throat to remind them of his presence but once their attention was on him, he could think of nothing sensible to say. "_See you at the Third Task_," was what he settled on before hurrying out of the room.

George felt he was breathing for the first time as he clambered out. He was hit hard with the realisation that he had lost her.

That was why he could not look at her when she sat next to him in the stands. And that was why he abruptly pulled his hand away when she tried to squeeze it. Now he knew what Katie felt. Soon after Angelina, Fred appeared at her side so that she sat in between them. They were a silent trio indeed.

The dark, massive maze stretched out before them as the bleachers filled with Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students. After a while the Champions appeared in the stadium and received roaring applause. Ludo Bagman's voice boomed over all their cheers. This time Fred and George did not exchange their covert look.

"Ladies and gentleman, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, on eighty-five points each- Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School! In second place, on eighty points- Mr. Victor Krum, of the Durmstrang Institute! And in third place- Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy! So…on my whistle, Harry and Cedric! Three-two-one…"

No one, not even the all-knowing Professor Trelawney, could foretell that that would be the last time they saw Cedric "The Prat" Diggory alive again…

"_He's dead! Diggory's dead_!"

George would never forget the sound of Angelina shrieking, or the feeling of horror that settled over him. Suddenly they were all on their feet. For a minute it did not register who between the two boys lying on the grass was alive. But then the exclamations became louder, more frequent. George was caught between relief and dismay as more people began to yell and sob hysterically. Teachers, Dumbledore, the Minister, Mad-Eye, all began to rush forward, and then Cedric's father, he was wailing, too. George had never heard such a terrible sound in all his life. He did not notice Harry being dragged away by Mad-Eye. For the first time that day his eyes met Fred's, who was clutching a panic-stricken Angelina. He knew they were thinking the exact same thing.

He had lived. Just that day they had seen him. He had been _there_. It was never Cedric they disliked, but his obnoxious teammates. Because Cedric didn't do a thing to them. He was all right. _He was there_. What happened?

"PREFECTS!" Dumbledore's voice carried over the noise. They heard it even without the _Sonorus_ charm. It seemed everyone had been waiting to hear him speak before they could calm down. "Ensure that _every single student_ is taken back to their dormitories _immediately_!" Dumbledore turned away from them and they began a barely organised rush out of the stadium. Cedric's dad had been taken away, Harry had disappeared, teachers were whispering frantically to each other.

They somehow managed to find their friends in the chaos. Angelina pulled away from Fred and rushed for Katie and Alicia. It seemed every girl, even the ones that had not known Cedric well, were either weeping or hysterical.

"What happened?" George could not control the panicked pitch of his own voice. "What the bloody hell happened?"

"I don't know!" He was stunned for a moment when Fred answered him. He was even more taken aback when he added, "Stay close, George."

All the Gryffindors were silent as they sat waiting. Waiting for what they did not know. The prospect of death had never hit them so severely as this. Cedric was a bloke, just like them. He had been good at Quidditch, just like them, he went to Hogwarts, just like them, he had a dad that loved him, just like them. But that did not give him immunity. He had still died. George looked at his brother, sitting with him on the sofa. Life was short. If George were to die tomorrow, or years from now, he wanted to know he had a brother that loved him, that would follow him if he could.

"_Fred_," he murmured. "I'm _so_ sor-"

"_Don't_." He shook his head. "Don't. We've both done wrong. _You and me_. And we'll just have to forgive each other. And forget. All right?"

George nodded slowly. "_Forget_."

The next day, Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons gathered in the Dining Hall solemnly. None were prepared to hear what Dumbledore relayed to them and George would remember his words for the rest of his life.

"_Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort…Harry Potter managed to escape …Voldemort's return…We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust…if the time should come when you have to make the choice between what is right, and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory…"_

The feud over for the most part, Fred, George, Lee, Angelina, Katie and Alicia walked together for what felt like the first time in years.

"I suddenly don't feel so safe here," Katie murmured.

Angelina put an arm about her shoulder and hugged her. "It'll be all right."

Alicia nodded. "It will be. All we need to survive is friendship. And we've got it."

Fred and George glanced at each other.

"Poor Cedric," said Katie. "And Cedric's family. And Harry. _Poor Harry_…"

They all gave murmurs of consent but George could not help smiling at her a little. She was a sweet girl.

"On a lighter note…" Lee broke the profound silence. "I can't _believe_ Mad-Eye wasn't Mad-Eye! I was practically in love with the old bugger!"

"As was I," said Fred.

"Broke my heart that did," George added.

Despite the fact that the Death Eater's masquerade added to Katie's fears that Hogwarts was no longer a safehaven, they all burst out laughing.

George was still not sure if he and Fred were completely okay. Especially not after their conversation in the dormitory.

"Angel and I might take a bit of a break from each other." George and Lee exchanged looks across the room. Fred continued to fold socks. "Things were getting a bit too intense, you know?"

George nodded slowly. He was surprised to note this did not fill him with joy. "And was this a mutual decision?" Fred nodded.

"Well, what does that mean for you two then?" said Lee.

He could have been talking about Fred and George, or Fred and Angelina. Fred chose the latter. "It's only temporary. We'll be back at it again eventually I reckon. I hope."

"And what does it mean for us?" said George.

Fred looked up. "I dunno…"

The train station was alive again with the excitement of returning home for the holidays. Hugs, kisses and letters were exchanged. But anxiety still brewed in George's stomach amongst the joviality. He knew it was impossible, but he wanted this whole thing to be over. He did not want to remember a time when he and Fred could have fought. It had all been a nightmare. And yet it had _not_ been.

George hugged Alicia goodbye, and promised to write to Katie every week (she seemed to get prettier every time he saw her). He gave Lee a brief, friendly hug and tried to make it as manly as possible. Angelina kissed him gently on the cheek. "See you, Georgie." She did the same to Fred, except his was longer, and she murmured something to him. He nodded. She nodded, and then walked away with the others, waving back all the while.

They met Harry by the Hogwarts Express. He had his Tournament winnings with him and by twin telepathy (or twin greed) they both hoped it would somehow end up with them. But they didn't think it would _actually_ happen. Harry told them to take the money, they refused, he insisted, and they quickly crumbled, thanking him profusely. Fred and George understood why he would want to give the Galleons away, and if they could help ease his conscience while making back all the money they lost to Bagman, why the bloody hell not?

The twins looked at each other, mutual glee on their faces.

"Do you _know_ what this means?"

George nodded. "It's gonna happen. We're gonna have a shop!"

And they danced about each other like a pair of idiots, George clutching the sack to his heart all the while.

"I love that kid!" said George as they loaded their trunks onto the train. "I really love him."

"I second that!" Fred's eyes were all asparkle with excitement.

George hesitated. "I love you, too, Fred. No matter what. I wouldn't want anybody else for a twin."

Fred grinned and shook his head. "_Blimey_. Put a dress on why don't you!"

"_Nah_. I'll leave that to Ron."

And as they guffawed George realised this was just what they needed to bridge the gap. The nightmare had been safely tucked away forever.

**Author's Note: I can't actually remember if Harry gave them the money at the school or at the train station! Sorry! My brother gave our copy of HP&tGoF to his school library so I can't be sure. But what's a little error? I've done it. Finished a fanfic! YAY! I can die happy. Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. I is loving you all so very much. Hope you enjoyed, and I hope people will find this some time, read and enjoy it, too! **

**GBU**

**EbonyHedlund**


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